The Little Bookshop Of Promises. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ That certainly wasn’t the case with Frank. There was an almost intuitive bond between them, one that marriage had honed and strengthened. She’d never expected to fall in love again, let alone experience a love like this. And the lovemaking, oh my, just thinking about the delights they’d found with each other...well, it made her heart beat triple time.

      “It’s Mary,” Dovie said reluctantly.

      “What’s the problem with Mary?”

      Dovie didn’t know how to answer. Mary Patterson had been Dovie’s best friend for most of her life. They’d graduated from high school together. She’d been Mary’s maid of honor, and later Mary had returned the favor. Over the years Dovie had watched Mary and her husband, Phil, raise two fine sons.

      It was Mary who had stood with her when Marvin was buried, Mary who’d helped her through the difficult months that followed. After Phil’s heart problems were diagnosed, Dovie had encouraged the couple to hand over the management of their cattle ranch to their sons and move into town. Not ready to retire completely, they’d started a bed-and-breakfast—and no one was more surprised at its success than Mary and Phil themselves. For years she and Mary had spoken on the phone every day or so, saw each other often and shared all their joys and sorrows. Dovie felt the same way about Mary as she would’ve felt about a sister.

      “You’re not answering me,” Frank said softly. His hands caressed her shoulders as he studied her.

      “Because I don’t know how.”

      “Start at the beginning.”

      If only it was that easy. “Something’s...not right.” There wasn’t anything Dovie could put her finger on, nothing she could pinpoint other than a vague feeling. In fact, until this very moment, she hadn’t intended to say a word, not even to Frank.

      “How do you mean?”

      “Not right” was nebulous, she realized, but it was the best she could do. “I don’t know,” Dovie had to admit again. “I just don’t know. But it seems we’re not as close as we used to be.”

      Frank took a few moments to consider this. “Do you think she might be a little jealous of our taking a trip to Europe?”

      Dovie laughed outright at that, but then, Frank didn’t know Mary the way she did. “Not in the least. Mary doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body.”

      “So, what do you mean you’re not as close as you used to be? Seems to me you two are constantly chatting on the phone.”

      “Yes, but...” What her husband said was true enough, yet lately their almost daily talks had felt strained. Even strained was too harsh a word—this change had begun months ago, very slowly, only Dovie wasn’t sure how she knew that. The difference was subtle, but somehow Mary seemed less attentive, less interested in their conversations.

      That very morning was a perfect example. One thing Mary and Dovie enjoyed was sharing recipes and ideas about food and decorating. Both of them took an unabashed delight in everything domestic—the Martha Stewarts of Texas, Frank called them. Mary had been instrumental in convincing Dovie to open the small tearoom inside the antique store and had encouraged her to serve some of her special recipes. Because of Mary, Dovie’s chocolate-dipped peanut-butter cookies and the buttermilk crust for her apple pie were two of the town’s favorites. Yet this morning, when Dovie had mentioned a new coffee-cake recipe she planned to try, Mary had sounded...indifferent.

      “But what?” Frank asked when she didn’t continue.

      “I just don’t know,” Dovie said, starting to feel a bit desperate. “Something’s wrong. I feel it in my bones.”

      * * *

      “Come to Promise.” Annie Applegate repeated Jane’s invitation aloud as she drove down the narrow Texas highway toward her new life. Her friends thought she was crazy to pack up everything she owned and move to Texas, to a town she’d never even seen. Perhaps they were right, but it felt good to be taking some positive action.

      When they were teenagers, Jane Dickinson had been one of her best friends. Correction, Dr. Jane Patterson. It was hard to remember that Jane wasn’t simply Jane any longer, but a fully certified physician. Not only that, Jane was married—and Annie wasn’t. Oh, she had been, but a serious car accident had left her with a permanent limp and a husband who found himself incapable of loving a woman whose once-perfect body was now marred by ugly red scars.

      No, Annie told herself, she was not going to dwell on Billy, although that had become nearly impossible since she’d learned his new wife was pregnant. What hurt most was that Billy knew how much she’d longed for a child. Before the wedding, they’d frequently discussed the family they’d have—at least three kids, close together. As an engineer, Billy earned enough to support a wife and children; he’d claimed he was willing to forgo extra cars and trips and other luxuries. Annie had thought of little else but quitting her job at the library and becoming a full-time wife and mother.

      During the five years of their marriage, Billy had put her off with a detailed list of reasons they should wait before starting a family. In retrospect, it was a blessing children hadn’t been involved in the divorce.

      Annie had wanted to put all the pain and betrayal of the marriage behind her; she’d done that symbolically by reverting to her maiden name.

      The car accident had cost her six months of employment, three operations, physical therapy and almost constant pain. But those were minor inconveniences compared to the death of her marriage.

      “Make a new life for yourself in Promise,” Jane had suggested. “Our library has a limited budget and is only open part-time. This town needs a good bookstore.”

      In the weeks since, they’d exchanged countless letters and talked endlessly, running up huge long-distance bills. Annie had learned about cowboys, cattle and ranchers. She’d learned that Texas cuisine included barbecue, chili without beans and lots of hot peppers. At least, she was already familiar with Mexican food—which she loved; according to Jane, there was a good and authentic Mexican restaurant in Promise. Jane had told her to listen to some country-and-western music, especially Willie Nelson. Her friend had described the people of Promise, the community itself and her own role as physician in the town’s only clinic. Hearing Jane’s enthusiasm for Promise, Texas, Annie understood her decision not to return to California.

      In some ways, Annie already felt part of the community. She knew the town and its history; she knew something about every family in the area. And thanks to Jane she could almost talk like a Texan. Their lengthy phone sessions were usually punctuated with high-spirited giggles that were reminiscent of their high-school days.

      And now she was ready.

      She’d sold or given away what she couldn’t carry, and the U-Haul trailer was packed to the brim. When she finally reached the town limits, the church steeple was the first thing to catch her eye. The bowling alley was next, then the city park, followed by the post office.

      Annie pulled into the bowling-alley parking lot and cut the engine. It was exactly as Jane had described, complete with a Greyhound Bus sign and a neon light advertising the café and a $1.99 breakfast special.

      Jordan’s Town and Country Western Wear sat on the corner across the street—and there it was, the empty space next door. She’d put down money to lease, with an option to buy. The place had originally been a real-estate office, but some time ago the company СКАЧАТЬ